I am not a Monster
by J. E. Talveran
Summary: I still have never found out how Snape learned that the shadows flying over the grounds were Madame Pomfrey's and mine, or how Sirius convinced him to walk into that tunnel ...


**Title: **I am not a Monster  
**Author:** Nameless Quill  
**Rating:** Teen  
**Disclaimer: **J.K Rowling's characters and world belong to her and to her publishers. I merely borrow them from time to time.  
**Summary: **Remus Lupin recalls a night when the moon was full and the innocence of a practical joke died with a howl.

**I am not a Monster**

_"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Lupin told Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "We were in the same year, you know, and we -- er -- didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field... anyway, Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be -- er -- amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it -- if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf -- but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life ... Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was..."_

_--Professor Lupin, POA_

I remember that night all too well. Madame Pomfrey had been more careless; worry for her child on the front lines of the Silent War had brought down some of the profession walls she erected during the school year. Her steps had been louder as she rushed me through the halls in the school, down from the hospital wing to the looming front doors. Her palm was sweaty; I could smell the fear pouring off of her while we crossed the outer courtyards. I was actually grateful that, for once, she wasn't fearful of me or for me.

We hurried over the grass to where the Whomping Willow waited like a tomb guardian, its branches hanging low and docile, a calm façade for such terrible power.

Madame Pomfrey hadn't the need to poke the knothole at the base of the tree, for a reason known only to Dumbledore, the tree remained quiet every time she approached.

I don't know how Snape spied us, or how he discovered that the two shadows flying over the grounds towards the Willow were those of myself and Madame Pomfrey.

She gently helped me through the long tunnel, going further then what she normally would have. Maybe it was her maternal instincts thrown into over-drive because of her child, but she even lingered near the doorway as I stumbled through the obstacle of overthrown furniture to get to a spread of moth-eaten blankets. There, I could have some comfort during the painful twisting of bones and sinew to come.

I turned as I reached the blankets and saw her staring at me with an unreadable emotion. Was it pity, regret, worry? I would never know for just as I opened my mouth to ask, a spasm shuddered through my spine, tingling down my arms and legs. I turned to see silver arrows beginning to pierce through the plank-covered windows to land in pale puddles of moonlight at my feet. I glanced back and saw she was no longer there.

My thoughts were seized as my body jerked again, needles of pain running down every nerve ending, signalling their displeasure at this arrangement. I fell to my knees, and crawled, the rough wood of the floor tearing at my knees through the thin fabric of my slacks. It helped dull the more burning pain of my muscles pulling away from the bone, connective tissue ripping as the cells burst and changed and then burst again. Tendons stretched thread-like thin between muscles and I hissed in agony as ligaments tore themselves from joints to make room for the shift. My hands flexed repeatedly, and with each one they grew longer, larger, nails became claws, claws turned to talons. My hands remained as hands until they flexed again, the wrist growing longer and my fingers growing shorter. They were becoming paws.

I was thrown to my feet, my back bending and my neck tossed back to unleash a mournful howl. My teeth were too big for my mouth and sliced against my tongue, filling my senses with the smell and taste of blood.

Then another smell came to me, bringing to my mind a picture of the dank and wet, the cold and windless tunnels that made up of the school's dungeon. A scent of books and ink, of brews and herbs. Of poor hygiene and indignant anger.

The scent was of Severus Snape.

I scrambled around half-blind, throwing myself over upended bookcases and ripped chairs as I tried to reach the entrance to the secret tunnel, fresh meat setting my mind into frenzy.

My skin was tearing into strips as fur exploded from underneath it, even my eyes hurt as the iris and pupils contorted to accommodate the demands of my new body. Colours dimmed into the washed-out sight of the wolf, and caught the flickering of shadows against torchlight on the far reaches of the tunnel.

I was more wolf by then as I let out another howl, this one of anticipation and hunger. I was clumsy making my way down onto the dirt path, my body still not fully through the changes. My legs were a horrible blend of man and wolf, the ankles too long to possibly support my weight. I heard them creak as I forced myself to stand and howl again. The pain was numbed, replaced by a thirst for blood.

They were all standing there, my mind wasn't fully gone as I recognized Sirius leaning against the wall, a cold smirk on his features, his eyes blazing as he watched the two others struggle.

"Snape just go! Just--- damn you Sirius--- just get out of here now!"

My ears perked. That was James shoving Snape backwards, his wand abandoned by his feet. I issued another growl and stepped forward again.

"No. I'll find out what you're hiding and _maybe_, just _maybe_ Dumbledore will discover just how much of arrogant troublemakers you are!" Snape was yelling back, his words becoming jumbled as my mind clicked over, language no longer needed for what I was..

Another growl, a deadly-playful attempt to get their blood racing before I pounced. I was still too far away, still struggling to finish my transformation. My teeth gnashed, my claws dug into the soil, and my eyes lolled in my head as I tried to keep going.

"Ah, just let Snivellius keep going, he really wants to—"

"Shut up Sirius, just—just shut up!" James yelled and then froze as my growls and whimpers seemed to reach him. Even Sirius was frozen, the smirk gone, and as one they turned and stared as I half-shuffled, half-crawled towards them.

Snape also saw me, his eyes widening and his skin blanching. Panic oozed from him in a flash-flood of scent. He was like a deer caught in a hunter's sight. Then, he ran.

And I gave chase.

James was behind Snape, using his speed and strength to help shove the Slytherin faster through the tunnel. Sirius was already reaching for his wand and within a heartbeat he rushed at me.

Padfoot slammed into me, the mass of the large dog knocking the wind out of me. I fell backwards and my head connected with something. Then, darkness took me.

* * *

The next afternoon, while I was huddled in a hospital bed, Dumbledore came up with Snape in tow. There was no twinkle in his gaze as he swore Snape to secrecy, to never reveal where I went and what I was. Snape agreed, his eyes dark, and his tone without emotion. Dumbledore watched the Slytherin, studying him quietly. I remained silent as well, regret and shame flooding over me. Snape only glared past me, out the window behind my head. None of us moved until Madame Pomfrey came out to tend to my wounds.

Dumbledore left then, presumably to deal with Sirius, and how I wished, just for a moment, that the arrogant Black prince would finally fall from the pedestal the school had him upon. I also wondered if Snape had seen anything past James getting him out.

Snape stared at me, then he turned and walked away, pausing just at the door and speaking over his shoulder.

"Monster." He left, leaving me alone with my thoughts even as Madame Pomfrey hovered over my bedside.

The assumption that a werewolf was only a man that turned into a blood-thirsty wolf was one of idiots and fools who had never seen a transformation brought on by anything other then resigned acceptance. The only studies the Ministry had ever conducted were on the individuals who hated their other halves. To study the darker side of the werewolf had never been successfully completed. Everyone was always dead by the end of the three nights.

They never knew about the ones who fell in love with the beast, or how much of a monster they became. Their shifts every month were no longer into a large dire wolf was eyes of hell-fire, oh no, they became tall half-men half-wolf creatures that stalked the country with hands with wicked talons and howls that made even a Thestral's blood run cold.

I, thankfully, was not a monster …

Not yet.

**_Finis_**

**Author's Note: **This was offered as a challenge and seeing that I'm in love with the werewolf myth and folklore, decided to take it. Thanks go to my best friend and to J.K Rowling who made Lupin. Reviews make my muse work overtime


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